


Castle

by insaneshadowfangirl



Series: Alterfell; The Story of a Girl [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Compromise, Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Imprisonment, Isolation, King Papyrus, Papyrus is Bad at Feelings, Papyrus really does care, Post-Undertale Neutral Route - King Papyrus Ending, Save Me, This All Sounds Very Heavy, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Unhealthy Relationships, Younger Brother Sans, and stuff, but there's fluff, he's just REALLY bad at showing it, now with part 2, this has grown out of my control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:17:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7229665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insaneshadowfangirl/pseuds/insaneshadowfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This ain't no fairy tale, and Sans is pretty damn sick of being locked away in a tower like some goddamn princess.</p><p>Now with part 2!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Manic

**Author's Note:**

> Stuff is still owned by the owners of stuff.
> 
> I wrote this for Senpai! Please notice me, @amortem-kun !
> 
> This post that inspired this: http://amortem-kun.tumblr.com/post/146021421730/underfell-king-queen-or-prisoner-papyrus-is

The day the eighth human came through the Underground was the day that they realized their 'Kill or Be Killed' attitude would keep them from ever reaching the surface, or surviving there. Frisk, as Sans would learn their name was after quite a bit of careful observation, did their best to befriend each monster they met, genuinely wanting them to be better.

But they didn't give second chances.

The human had been capable of rewinding time after their death, and they used this to their advantage. If a monster killed them, they'd simply reset and return the favor.

Sans, being the only monster able to remember these 'reloads', figured this out quickly and managed to warn his brother.

When the human came, Papyrus swallowed his urge to kill them on the spot and listened to their overtures of stupid, useless things like peace and harmony and friendship. He played nice (He might've actually even gotten a bit attached, after all, the brat was very cute and charismatic when they weren't stabbing you).

Frisk worked their way though the Underground, killing Asgore and returning to the surface with their flower, never to be seen or heard from again by monster kind. Apparently, after having to kill off over half of the monsters in the Underground, they'd decided monster kind as a whole wasn't worth freeing (He didn't blame them. Though sometimes in his darker moments, he wished they'd killed them all).

And Papyrus stepped into the vacuum of power that had been left after the deaths of the King, the former Queen, the Captain of the Royal Guard, and the Royal Scientist. He dragged his brother along, Sans not daring to protest because he _knew better_ (He brother had always been a bit rough with him, crossing the line into outright abuse from time to time, especially when he disagreed or argued).

But now, as he sat in the window seat in the tallest tower of the castle feeling like a goddamn fairy tale princess, he wished he had.

It had been almost two years since his brother took the throne, and Sans hadn't seen the outside of the castle (Unless one counted the courtyard in the center, which was technically 'outside' but still part of the castle and still walled in) since (unless one counted his two day escape attempt, after which he was dragged back by the Royal Guard kicking and screaming). That wasn't the worst thing to happen, but it was frustrating. Even he was capable of getting cabin fever, after all.

Sans laid his forehead against the reinforced glass, hissing in annoyance as the simple act of leaning forward jerked both of his wrists out of his lap.

" _b-boss... this is overkill-" Sans tugged fruitlessly at the finely engraved silver shackles, connected by a magically strengthened chain to his new collar (replacing his old, comfortable leather one with matching silver and fancy designs, and it was all very pretty but he_ hated _it). There was a matching pair on his ankles (stars forbid he be able to walk too fast!). And the absolute worst part of the whole ensemble was the magic suppression. It cut off enough of his magic to prevent teleports, but he could still summon bones in a pinch (not that he actually needed to protect himself if he was going to be trapped in a gilded cage for the rest of his fucking life)._

" _Quiet, Sans. I won't have you trying to run off again!"_

" _well, if you would just_ let me outside _-" He knew better than to be this difficult, but fuck if he was going to just accept being locked away like some damsel or trophy without so much as a token protest!_

 _This was his brother (the King!)! He couldn't just strut around, doing whatever the hell he wanted (he could)! There was this little thing called consent, and Sans had never, never in a million years, consented to_ this _(it didn't matter)!_

 _A hand shot out too fast for Sans to register and smacked him across the face. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you out there?" Papyrus's voice was low, deadly. Sans nearly shrunk in on himself. "You will_ not _be leaving."_

And that was the final word on the matter.

Sans never worked up the courage to complain again, Papyrus continued to do whatever he liked, and the chains stayed firmly in place. It was almost funny in a way; His brother may call him the Queen, but it was pretty obvious he was as much a prisoner as a royal. And one not even allowed to talk to the castle staff beyond orders for food and such (Well, he _could_ , but Papyrus would have whomever he'd been speaking with executed and then he'd be in for another _reprimand_ from his brother, which would probably involve being fucked six ways from Sunday and then spending _another_ few nights locked in his room by himself). Papyrus was well aware he didn't handle isolation well. He'd always liked hanging around Chillby's Shitty Bar and chatting with the regulars. It was relaxing. The King didn't like hitting him (or at least, he didn't want to accidentally hit too hard or too frequently and accidentally dust Sans), so locking him away was typically his punishment of choice.

And that was why he was despondently sitting in the window seat. His room was nice, and he'd mostly been able to pick out the furnishings and decorations himself, but it was fairly small (being the top room of a tower wasn't just cliché, it was also uncomfortable), and he pined for their old home in Snowdin, where he could leave whenever he wanted and talk to whomever he wanted to (but after Papyrus found him flirting with the lady behind the door, he never dared to do so with anyone else again). The window was the closest thing he had to _out of here_ at the moment. And while there were times he'd actually considered jumping out of it, he knew better. Papyrus had put up a magical barrier around it when he saw Sans eyeing it speculatively.

He wasn't _entirely_ sure why the King had locked him in here this time. The only thing he could remember doing that might've displeased him was refusing to wear the dress he'd laid out for Sans, and he did that nearly every day. Maybe Boss was just sick of it? But he really didn't want to wear dresses- even if it would reinforce the 'hilarious' fairy tale image. Princess Sans, waiting for rescue by a gallant knight.

How fucking stupid.

There was a tiny knock on the door, and he looked over in time to see a panel in the wood slide open and a tray slid in by unseen hands. Guess he wasn't being let out for dinner again tonight. He stood up and carefully walked to the door, doing his best not to trip on the fairly short chain keeping his ankles less then a foot apart (It was always humiliating and sometimes painful when that happened, and sometimes he couldn't even get up because of the fucking shackles) but trying to move quickly, lest he miss his chance to actually _talk_ to someone.

"thank you, amanda." He muttered hopefully to the door way as he took the tray, not waiting to take a much-needed swig of mustard.

"I'm sorry, sir." A female voice said softly on the other side, "I'm Tiffany. Amanda was executed after dinner yesterday."

"oh." Sans tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, really he did, but the stab of grief he felt was unavoidable. He had liked Amanda. She'd always had a smile for him when he was feeling down, which was more and more often of late. "i'm sorry, tiffany."

"It is no problem, sir." The voice said, in the same soft tone. There was a pause, during which Sans turned to head back to the window seat. "If it makes you feel any better, sir, the King plans to come see you when he finishes his meal." Stars, why did these handmaidens always try to cheer him up? It inevitably led to the gallows, and Sans hated getting attached to people who wanted to make him smile, only for them to die at the hands of his brother.

Yeah, that made him feel _so_ much better. Sans sighed. "thank you, tiffany. You'd best get back to whatever it is you ladies do when i'm not around."

She giggled softly, and he winced. She'd be gone by the morning, no doubt. Fuck! "Good night, Your Highness."

Her footsteps faded away as Sans sat himself back down in the window seat and picked at his food.

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Papyrus entered the room without knocking a few hours later, instantly spotting Sans in the window seat.

He looked... Sad. Sans always looked so sad, lately.

He didn't really _get_ it. Sans was safe, he got everything he wanted unless it compromised his safety ( _or makes you jealous_ , a soft voice whispered in his mind. Papyrus ignored it with the ease of long practice), Papyrus took good care of him unless he misbehaved- he didn't even beat the whelp anymore!

Sans should be _happy_ , dammit!

And yet he wasn't.

And Papyrus knew, even if he didn't quite understand what had Sans so upset, that it was probably his fault, due to the limited contact he had with other people. Which, as much as it pained him to, meant that he had to fix it, or risk Sans falling down.

"Sans?"

His brother looked away from the window, seeming to notice Papyrus for the first time. " _oh_." Papyrus could feel a lot of emotion behind that single word, and though it was difficult to decipher it all it was pretty clear Sans was not all that happy to see him.

"What is wrong with you? Lately you've been so... Depressed."

Sans shook his head, but Papyrus knew Sans's nonverbal cues enough to recognize the jaw twitch he got when he was lying. "nothing's wrong, boss."

"Sans." He growled, frown only deepening when the other flinched and huddled closer to the window. With a sigh, Papyrus walked over to the window and sat beside him, gently lifting Sans onto his lap. His brother cuddled almost instinctively into his chest, leaning his head on Papyrus's clothed ribcage.

Stars, Sans was so small.

" _Please_ tell me what has you so upset." The words were like acid on his non-manifested toungue, but he spit them out because he'd never _fix_ this unless he bit the bullet and was polite about it.

"... why should i?"

Papyrus blinked, looking down at the precious bundle on his lap. "Because-" Because I want to make it right. Because I want to see you smile again? "-I told you to."

Sans actually growled, pushing away from him and standing up. "that's just it, boss." He spat venomously, a spark of defiance in his eyelights. "it's always about what _you_ want! i never get a say in anything! 'stay inside!' 'don't socialize!' 'no junk food!' 'wear what I've laid out for you!' 'you're not in the mood to fuck? too bad, i'm gonna pin you down and take what i want anyway!' 'you disagree? i'll chain you up and block out half your fuckin' magic!' 'you try to make friends with the staff? i'll fucking kill them and leave you more alone than ever!' 'is that a hot dog? i'll just trap you in your fucking gilded prison cell, then you _have_ to eat what I want you to!'" There were tears running down his cheekbones, and he was pacing back and forth in front of the window seat, looking anywhere but at his speechless sibling. "don't you get it, boss? you're killing me! I can't handle this fucking isolation anymore! i need fresh air! I need people to talk to who'll be there to talk to again the next fucking day! why do you _hate_ me so much?!"

Papyrus was speechless. He'd... He'd really been hurting Sans this much? He hadn't seen the small skeleton this upset in... Ever. He'd never seen Sans this upset. He looked so fragile.

He had to fix this. And there was really only one way to start.

"I'm sorry."

Sans looked up at him as if he couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "b-boss?" All the venom, the anger, all of it drained out of his brother in a second, leaving him confused and uncertain, staring up at him.

"I thought... I thought I was treating you right. Protecting you..." Papyrus shook his head. "I didn't know you were hurting like this." He looked down at the hem of Sans's robes. "I am not the best at this, Sans. But I am sorry."

The smaller of the pair took half a step forward before he was swept back into Papyrus's lap, where he immediately made himself comfortable.

"Perhaps... We can compromise?"

Sans looked up. "compromise?"

The King nodded. "I will allow you to leave the castle, so long as you are under my supervision. It is still not safe for you beyond these walls. Between your single hit point and your connection with me, you are far too tempting a target for a would-be usurper."

Sans nodded slowly, warily.

"I will disconnect the shackles on your wrists from your collar, and lengthen the chain on your ankles." His brother's eyes lit up at this. "Be warned, the first time you try and sneak away without permission, they will be returned to how they were before."

"yes, boss..." Sans nodded obediently, all signs of defiance gone and leaving him docile and calm. Papyrus could probably stop making concessions and he would be content with what he'd gotten.

But he wouldn't be happy. And Papyrus was sick of his queen being unhappy.

"I will allow you to ... _bond_... I with your personal servants with no risk to the young ladies in question, so long as you remember that you belong to me- not some lowly handmaiden."

Before his eyes, Sans's face split into a beautific smile, and he nuzzled into Papyrus's chest, throwing his arms around him. The larger of the two chuckled. "I love you."

"thank you, thank you... i love you, papyrus...

The elder brother set his chin on top of Sans's skull. "I know."


	2. Safe and Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus loves Sans, but it's easy to slip into old habits.
> 
> Sans loves Papyrus, but he can't live like this anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a few people wanted more.
> 
> So have more.
> 
> Stuff is owned by the owners of stuff.

Sans was running. He didn't know how long he'd been running, but it had to have been a couple of days straight. If he'd had lungs, they would've been on fire.

 

As it was, there was a tight, desperate ball of magic whirling around his soul within his rib cage, constricting the little inverted heart as he sucked in desperate, heaving breaths through slightly parted, sharp teeth.

 

Stars, he was so fucked (If Boss caught him now, he was dust. Or worse. Probably worse.).

 

But his destination was close enough, now. He disappeared in a sparkle of red light mid-step, reappearing just feet away from his salvation.

 

(He's like to see those damn dogs try and follow his scent after a teleport all the way across Snowdin Forest.)

 

“c'mon, kid. please tell me you left the door unlocked...” He tested the knob on the bright red door, set in the rock as far away from the Capital (As far away from his brother) as possible. The door swung open, and Sans breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the pile of dust still sitting in front of it on the other side, undisturbed.

 

Nobody had come or gone from the Ruins since the kid.

 

Sans blipped past the pile of dust, careful not to fuck around with it as he started setting the numerous locks. Toriel had been extremely paranoid (like he was going to have to be if he wanted to stay safe), and nothing could get through that door if they were locked (hopefully). Sans had actually tried to teleport past it at one point, but it hadn't worked. And Boss was well aware of that, so he hoped his brother (and the members of the Royal Guard no doubt chasing him) would leave the Ruins be if they found them locked. After all, if the doors were locked, Sans probably wasn't in here.

 

For the first time in at least a couple of days, Sans allowed himself to stop and rest.

 

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At first, after Boss had agreed to loosen up on the rules, it was so much better. Sans could finally walk around the castle without falling on his face due to the short length of his chains, meaning he could finally spend time outside of his rooms (without Boss needing to tote him around like a living doll). He was able to leave the castle for the first time in over two years (even if his elder sibling was right beside him, hovering and refusing to let him out of arms reach). And he finally had people to _talk_ to, simple small talk that he'd craved for ages (and Boss wasn't killing people he chatted with now).

 

At first, it was great.

 

But as the days passed, Sans started to notice the little slip-ups.

 

“ _I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm too busy to take you outside today, Sans.”_

 

“ _Where were you? I couldn't find you, why weren't you in your room?”_

 

“ _Were you flirting with that Tiffany, Sans? You know you belong to me.”_

 

And they started to become more and more frequent.

 

“ _but boss, it's been almost a month...”_

 

“ _i was just in the study, boss...”_

 

“ _n-no, boss! i belong to you! we were just jokin' around, i swear!”_

 

The nights spent locked away in his rooms had at first dropped to almost none, but then began to slowly increase to more often than even before. Boss hadn't accompanied him outside in almost half a year. Tiffany was starting to get nervous every time Boss was near her.

 

Sans had had enough.

 

He didn't want to be locked away alone again.

 

Too afraid of the consequences of another outburst, he didn't bring up his concerns with Papyrus. Boss had been brushing him off more and more. He'd tentatively bring up a problem, Papyrus would spout meaningless platitudes and empty promises, then send him off with a kiss on the forehead or a pat on the skull. If he tried to press the issue, he got a warning smack.

 

He'd learned ages ago, long before the kid entered the Underground and Boss became the King, that to continue doing whatever had ticked Boss off after that initial hit would lead only to further pain.

 

So Sans started to plan.

 

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It was hard to believe the lady behind the door had been Queen Toriel. Even after knowing this for years, seeing pictures of the former Royal Family scattered about the little home connected to the door was disconcerting.

 

He wondered if Papyrus would've reacted the same way (would've raped him for the very first time on that _awful_ day) if he'd known just who Sans was talking to.

 

Probably.

 

(Queen or not, Toriel was still flirting with Boss's belongings.)

 

He sighed, wondering how many monsters were still alive in the Ruins.

 

And if they would give him up to Boss, should they learn he was staying (hiding) here.

 

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Sans had been planning his escape for a few weeks, now. If he got this wrong and was caught, he'd never see the light of day again. Papyrus would either kill him or lock him in his rooms or the dungeon for the rest of his miserable life. Tiffany had agreed to help him (she really was a darling) and so the final pieces were falling into place.

 

When a monster's magic was locked down with nullstone (like these fucking chains), sometimes the suppression device doesn't quite work correctly, and the bled-off excess magic that was still produced by a monster soul even when they couldn't actively use magic would build up inside of them with no outlet. It led to a painful and often fatal sickness with very recognizable symptoms-- known simply and directly as magic overload.

 

Symptoms that were very easy to recreate, if one knew the right spells. And while Sans couldn't cast magic, Tiffany could.

 

If the magic suppressors were removed and left off for a while, it usually only took a few days of rest to cure the illness. And during those few days, a monster would generally be too tired to do much of anything.

 

“ _boss, i'm not feeling so good...”_

 

_Papyrus scooped him into his arms and lugged him to the castle's clinic._

 

“ _Fever, unstable magic readings, tiredness, aches... Magic overload, Sire. A few days without those suppressors and Queen Sans should be good as new.” The kitsune doctor said. Sans curled further into Papyrus's chest to hide his pleased grin._

 

_Papyrus wasn't happy about it, but was reassured by the doctor that Sans would be too out of it to use magic once the chains were off._

 

_And so off they went. Papyrus left him in the clinic bed overnight, Sans easily feigning sleep until his brother left to do some paperwork._

 

_Then, he blipped away and started his marathon run for the Ruins._

 

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The monsters in the Ruins were surprisingly... Kind. Sans knew that the Underground hadn't always been such a shithole, and that after Princess Chara and Prince Asriel died and Queen Toriel left him decades ago, Asgore lost his mind and became bitter and violent, and that eventually translated to the rest of the Underground.

 

Except for the Ruins, it seemed. With Toriel's kind, calming influence she'd continued her role as Queen on a much smaller scale, turning the old capital into a sort of 'kingdom-within-a-kingdom'.

 

When the first Froggit cautiously approached him and asked about the robes he was wearing – a much smaller version of the Queen's old robes that Asgore had kept in her chambers – Sans had told her a brief summary of his brother's treatment, of how Papyrus had ascended to the throne, of how he'd been abused most of his life and how that hadn't changed when he became 'Queen', how Papyrus would lock him up and rape him and how he _loved_ Boss, really he did, but he couldn't _live_ like that – What was supposed to be a short retelling of the events that brought him here became a tearful confessional as Sans allowed himself to drop his walls and let out all of the emotion he'd had pent up for years... An audience of one Froggit quickly became one of all the monsters left in the Ruins (it seemed the kid hadn't killed anyone but Toriel here). And they were so... _kind_. A Vegetoid offered him dinner once the tears slowed, a Whimsun rubbed his back comfortingly while he cried...

 

It made his soul feel warm.

 

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A few days later, Sans toted the small bag of dust to the patch of golden flowers beneath the Hole. With Lux's help (Lux being that first Froggit he'd met), he carefully buried it beneath them, uniting mother and child in death at last.

 

“g'nite, toriel.” He muttered. “i'm sorry i never came back.” He was sure the lonely woman was upset when he'd simply stopped coming to the door. Sans couldn't help but wonder how many days she spent waiting before she inevitably gave up on him. Lux would probably know, but Sans wasn't really sure he _wanted_ to know, so he didn't ask.

 

The Froggit led him back to Home, inquiring if he'd thought any further about the offer the monsters of the Ruins had made. The offer to take Toriel's place, to be Queen here.

 

He wrung his hands in the cloth of his robes, honestly just missing his jacket. He had no idea what Papyrus had done with it. He'd just woken up on day, and it was gone.

 

These people had already done a lot for him. He felt safer here than he had in years. But why would they want him to rule them? Why would they want a ruler at all? They were safe, here, in their little hidey hole, protected from the harsh world beyond the Ruins. Why would they just hand power over to an unknown?

 

So he asked that fateful question. “why me?”

 

Lux had simply smiled enigmatically, eyes shining with encouragement.

 

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**One Year Later**

 

Sophie rubbed her head, brushing blond locks of hair out of her eyes and looking up slowly. That was quite a tumble! She wished she hadn't have gotten separated from her classmates. She was sure she wouldn't have fallen down that big hole if she hadn't been alone.

 

And it was so _deep_! She couldn't even see the sun or the sky through it!

 

Sophie stood, checking herself for injuries, and looked around. It looked like she'd fallen on a large patch of bright yellow flowers. Huh. The little girl wondered how flowers grew so deep underground, with no sun to feed them.

 

There _was_ light, big bright crystals in the cavern ceiling that glowed softly and reminded her of the stars. But she doubted glowing rocks would help plants grow. Still... “Pretty...” She breathed.

 

“hello? is somebody there?” a soft male voice came out of the darkness ahead. Sophie eeped.

 

After a moment, a figure came into view. They were only a little taller than Sophie, wearing a black and red robe with a strange symbol on the front.

 

As they stepped closer into the light from the crystals, Sophie realized that they didn't have any skin or eyes or hair. They were just a walking, talking skeleton.

 

How strange.

 

“hello, kiddo.” They – he – said softly, holding out a hand. She took it and shook, yelping when a _phbbbt_ came from their entwined fingers. Then she giggled as she realized she'd been pranked.

 

The skeleton laughed softly. “the old whoopie cushion in the hand trick. it's funny every time.”

 

Sophie nodded, still giggling softly.

 

“i'm sans. sans the skeleton. the caretaker of the ruins.” He looked her up and down, and Sophie noticed his teeth were rather sharp, and one of them was a golden dummy fang that glinted in the light. “i'm guessin' you just fell down?”

 

Sophie nodded, adding, “Yeah... I was on a field trip with Miss Buttons and my class, but I guess I got distracted and then they were gone...” She frowned slightly. “My name is Sophie.”

 

The skeleton nodded, holding out his other hand, and she took it almost automatically, smiling at him. Despite his small size, she was pretty sure he was an adult, and he seemed nice.

 

“don't worry, bucko. There's not really a way out of the underground, but you're welcome to stay as long as you like.”

 

Sophie smiled at him. “Thank you Mister Sans.”

 

“... just sans, alright?”

 

“Okay.”

 

 

 


	3. Breakaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We briefly meet the eighth human, and the story begins anew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame Sora_Tayuya and their essay comments. And Shadowcat500 for their own ideas.
> 
> There WILL be a sequel to this.
> 
> (I hate it when this happens.)

**Two Years Before Last Chapter**

 

Frisk sat beneath a tree, absently doodling in their sketchbook. It had been almost two years since they'd left the underground, yet the smooth white pages were still covered with doodles of what they'd seen. Inverted hearts... Massive dogs with terrifyingly long necks... Skeletons with sharp teeth... Toriel half-way through turning to dust...

 

Flowey didn't really like that one. 

 

Right now, the robot was their topic of choice, his EX form. Four arms, those amazing  _legs_ , nine-inch heels. Their pencil practically danced across the page.

 

"Mettaton?" The golden flower planted in the dirt beside them asked.

 

"Yes." The human nodded unnecessarily.

 

"It's good. I like the chainsaw."

 

They laughed. Mettaton's chainsaw would've been a lot scarier if the motor hadn't clogged with dust mid-battle. Frisk tried not to think about what had happened before that, the whirring blade slicing through their middle as though it were cutting butter. They reset it; it  _didn't_  happen. 

 

"Yeah, thanks." They smiled at their friend.

 

A few more minutes passed in relative silence before Frisk yawned and curled up on the grass for a nap. It was such a nice day...

 

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Flowey frowned, poking the human tentatively with one vine. Frisk didn't even twitch. 

 

Good. This would be easier on both of them if he didn't have to say goodbye. 

 

He carefully nudged their bag out from under their head, and slowly unzipped it so as to not make too much noise. The first pocket was full of everything you'd expect a homeless teen to have-- a spare sketchbook, a box of colored pencils, a couple cans of spagettios, matches, a blanket... Frisk's clothes and a handful of cash they had pickpocketed the day before. But it was the secret pocket sewn into the back that Flowey was after. He undid the knots holding it closed and gingerly pulled six small jam jars from the bag.

 

Inside each was a small, gem-like heart. Six different colors and suspended in the same blue liquid that Asgore had been keeping them in, they sparkled in the sunlight like they never had underground.

 

Flowey sighed, grabbing one of Frisk's spare shirts in another vine and tying it so it was an approximation of a bag. He loaded the jars inside and, with a sigh, looked over at his friend.

 

He didn't want to go.

 

But he had to. His body was starting to destabilize, the flower growing weaker and weaker. He needed to go to the True Lab, to find a solution before he died or melted into goo.

 

It was better this way.

 

He hefted the bag and turned to go, but caught sight of the sketchbook lying innocently on the grass.

 

Could he really bring himself to leave Frisk without so much as a good-bye?

 

No. They'd been through too much together...

 

He grabbed the book and Frisk's pencil and set to work.

 

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Frisk sat up as dusk shrouded the little hill they sat on, stretching. “That was a good nap. Did you sleep as well, Asriel?”

 

There was no response.

 

“Asriel?” Frisk looked around in confusion. “Flowey?”

 

After a moment of sheer panic coursing through them, they spotted the sketchbook, lying open atop their backpack.

 

“No...” They snatched it up and stared.

 

The picture was one they'd drawn a few scant weeks ago, based on a picture they'd taken of themself and Flowey. They were grinning at the 'camera', faces pressed close together. One of Frisk's arms was extended to hold the camera.

 

Beneath it, though, was a handwritten note in strange, unfamiliar chicken-scratch. As thought the hand holding the pencil had never done so – Or, was perhaps a vine.

 

_Frisk..._

 

_I'm sorry. I'm leaving. I can't stay on the surface. It's slowly killing me. There's not enough magic to help sustain my body without a soul. I've been leeching off your Determination, but it's not enough. And if I take any more than I have, I could hurt you._

 

_And I would never, never hurt you._

 

_I'm sorry._

 

_I'm taking the Human Souls, as well._

 

_You stay safe, okay? I didn't drag you through the Underground so you could get hit by a car once you got on the surface._

 

_Sincerely,_

 

_Flowey (Your Best Friend)_

 

Tears dripped down their nose as they realized that, for the first time since leaving the Underground, they were well and truly alone.

 

“Please... Asriel... Flowey... Come back... Please... Don't leave me...” They whined into the setting sun.

 

 _ **But nobody came**_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep an eye out for the sequel, Sunshine. It'll be the second part of this series.


End file.
